The Soul On Its Knees

This photo was snapped before church one Sunday morning 

while he was home.  

Home.

Where is home?  

We skyped with him for the first time last night,

seeing that smile and those blue eyes for the first time in 18 days...

... as he sat on the floor in HIS home in Japan.

That tiny little apartment

with the tiny little beds mats,

the tiny little shelves,

near the tiny little kitchen,

beside the tiny little bathroom

with the tiny little sink.

But he isn't a tiny man.

I shake my head in disbelief as he scans his apartment

with his cell cam.

It's show-n-tell time.

Hmm.

How's this workin' for ya?

On the elevator, heading a few blocks away to show us his church

and the classrooms where he'll be teaching.

Our conversation with him is interrupted 

as he greets another person getting on the elevator,

a brief conversation in Japanese ensues...

-- I wonder what they're saying --

then laughter...

more jibberish...

then he toggles back to English 

without missing a beat!

I smile broadly.

It's morning there as we skype...

It's nearly bedtime here.

One of three sanctuaries.

His church.

Classes begin for him one week from today,

teaching English, U.S. History and Chemistry.

Would I prefer him to be here?

Selfishly, yes.

But he's chosen to be in Japan for now.

There's a reason for this, I'm certain.

A certainty cultivated from a precious and redeeming gift of faith.

Practiced since my earliest memories of childhood.

The faith that I've passed on to him.

My thoughts of him now 

fuse into prayers,

trusting 

on bended knee 

that God is in control,

that my son is content,

protected,

fulfilled,

and exactly where he is supposed to be.

HE DID IT!

MY GAVIN'S FIRST BODYBUILDING COMPETITION

AND

"NATURALLY"

HE

KILLED

IT

FIRST PLACE NOVICE TALL

FIRST PLACE MEN'S OPEN HEAVYWEIGHT

I’M SO PROUD!

HE'S MY HERO!

To Work, Or Not To Work...That Is The Question

I was on the fence about it...

do I go to work today?

do I stay home?

work?

home?

work?

home?

Home won.

But I'll still be working.

Always on a mission...

It's Friday. Make It Ridiculously Amazing

While browsing Craigslist for the Charlotte, NC, area yesterday evening, I wandered over to the real estate/vacation rentals section -- no particular reason -- and was scanning down the list of ads, when I saw an alluring ad for lakefront property listed for a crazy-low price.  My curiosity got the best of me.  How can this be?  I must check this out.

My first reaction:  WTF?

And then I laughed at how ridiculous this ad was.  I laughed and laughed and laughed.

Ironically, based on the wordiness of the ad, the seller was apparently quite proud of his custom-built dream home.  I guess it takes all kinds.  We shake our heads in disbelief sometimes, questioning how or WHAT people are thinking when they do what they do.  

Weirdosis.

I think that's a word...isn't it?  If not, it should be.


I guess it's okay to be weird.  Who decides what's weird and what's normal anyway?

So.  Moving on.

My agenda for today:

• Get into a Friday ridiculously amazing frame of mind.  
• Stop by Capitol Market for some fresh tomatoes (since ours are showing no interest in ripening anytime soon)
• Make a return to Gabriel's; those "juniors-cut" black dress pants that I eyeballed instead of trying on - their dressing room annoys me -- are unfortunately too snug.  Of course, they were, considering most juniors pants are made to fit ostrich legs.
• Stop by Goodwill and unload four large boxes of "excess" -- ahh, the joy of decluttering!
• Run by the grocery store for almond milk, asiago cheese, chicken breasts, fresh spinach, and a bottle of yummy Spanish red.
• Leave work a little early to beat the traffic (and maybe the rain)
• Tidy up the back porch, light some candles, listen to some Blank & Jones...or, second though, maybe just listen to the rain.

Time to Unplug

Hauntingly, Breathlessly Beautiful

As I sit here on my back porch, anticipating the rain...
relaxing to Pandora...

...this song begins to play.

Each AND EVERY time I hear this song, it leaves me breathless.

I shut my eyes and lose myself in its haunting loveliness.

My God ...

From Hideway to Heaven

The unpredictability of hormones.  The demons that haunt women, coming out of nowhere like a bat outta hell.  Bam!  You try to run but you can't really hide. It serves only to prolong the misery.


I TRIED to hide.  It's that whole leave-me-the-hell-alone, I'm-having-a-pity-party mood thing.  Retreat from all forms of life.  My bones ached.  My breasts get sore.  My appetite goes out the roof. And I'm just a wee bit, uh, bitchy?  See, the thing is, I'm supposed to be over this shit.

My last trip to the gym was last Thursday.  A full week ago.  We left early to go to Gavin's for his GF's graduation from Duquesne's nursing program on Friday, so no time to go then.  We got home late Saturday, so that means "leg day" got skipped.  Unthinkable!  And Sunday was when Whormone Storm hit, and I haven't been quite right since.

(Note:  He's working toward his first body building show this fall!!!  MOMMA'S SO PROUD!)

So, I dragged my ass out the door on Tuesday morning for HIIT cardio outdoors, thinking it best not to inflict my misery on others around me.  Being out in the morning air in solitude seemed like a better plan.  I ran eight intervals on the hill in our subdivision, walking back down the hill for recovery.  On my way back to our house I did intervals of 20 walking lunges, brisk-walk recovery for one minute; repeat; until I'd done 100 walking lunges.  A total cardio workout of 40 mins.  Felt great.  By the end of the day, I still wasn't feeling my best.

On Wednesday, more of the same.  Still fighting demons.  So I decided to do light stretching, then 20 minutes of Callanetics -- a very focused, mind-to-muscle session, remembering why I love this workout so much; followed by 23 minutes of Turbo Jam Cardio Party to get my heart rate elevated and torch some fat.  I dropped into bed last night weary to the bone, frustrated that I felt so out of sync with myself, and determinted to go to the gym on Thursday, regardless of how tired (or bitchy) I felt.

This morning, exiting my hideaway, I made it to the gym, beginning with 10 minutes on the elliptical, and then promptly launching a metabolic shoulders and ab workout, no resting between exercises:

• Lateral raises, 4 sets, 10 reps
• Bicep curls, 4 sets, 10 reps
• Rear delt flyes, 4 sets, 10 reps

Supersetted with V-Up double-crunches (15) and raised-leg-lift/twists (15) with the an inflated exercise ball.

Then...

• Seated DB presses, 3 sets, 10 reps
• Isolated bicep curls, 3/10
• Lateral throws/squats, 3/15

Supersetted with a circuit of side plank crunches (20 per side) and 1-minute planks, no rests between exercises.

Halfway through my workout my second wind kicked in and I was running high octane, flying like a kite, my aches and pains and bitchiness conquered by my euphoria.  Oh, the music...!  Eau yeah.  Where's that volume control....! Yep, life IS good afterall.

I wish everyone on the planet could experience this kind of high.  We'd have far fewer overweight, disease-ridden masses.  It's absolutely the best drug anybody could ask for.  There is none better.

Dig outta your cave, outta your hideway, crank up the tunes, and just get at it.

And that's how it's done!

Motivational Theme Song

(yep, it's on my playlist!)

Try the Case, Not the Court's Patience

Get on with it!

I can always tell when it's coming.  Having reported for him this many years, I can almost feel it in my bones. He's not one fond of wasting time, and he's not afraid to tell 'em about it.  In the meantime, I've mastered the art of suppressing giggles.



THE COURT:  Mr. Lewis, do you want to sit here and argue all morning?

MR. LEWIS:  No, Judge, I do not.

THE COURT:    Well, then I've ruled.  You have an objection on the record.
          Let's get on with it.  We're just --

MR. LEWIS:   Yes, Your Honor.

THE COURT:    -- You're chopping, but no chips are flying, buddy.  You got any other motions?

MR. LEWIS:    I do, Judge.

THE COURT:  Let's go.  Move.

THE COURT:    Overruled.  Let's get moving.  May I ask -- Come here.

(Counsel approached the bench.)

AT THE BENCH AND OUT OF THE HEARING OF THE JURY:

THE COURT:    What is the significance of this building permit?  You have beat that thing -- that horse is deader than hell, about fix feet under.  Can we move on to the issues here?  I've been worrying about that damn building permit, and y'all done beat the hell out of that thing.

MR. SMITH:     Yes, Your Honor.  I'll move on, sir.